


Heathens, the Both of Them

by HutongCyclist



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Mages, Modern Girl in Thedas, Thoughts Wanted, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 09:15:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21718519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HutongCyclist/pseuds/HutongCyclist
Summary: Somehow school teacher Brianna has found her way into a world of magic, lore and war. Mahannon was simply doing his duty to his clan. Both forced to act as the right hand and left hand of dangerous magics bent on killing them both. These two must work together as two heathens leading an army of the faithful.I have begun posting chronological chapters starting with Chapter 1. The three that I originally had up are marked as stand alone until I can fold them into the story.
Relationships: Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 3
Kudos: 34





	1. Cells are places where one is expected to be afraid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first offical chapter.  
Two people wake up in cages. No one knows what is going on least of all the captures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for those that gave kudos on my single chapters.  
I am attempting to start from the beginning.  
Here is the short start of this story.

**Chapter One: Cells are places where one is expected to be afraid**

The scream that echoed through his very sore body could have awoken him from death itself. That and the corresponding fire that seared his left palm. Jerking forward as if to shield himself from attack, he found he could not grip his wrist due to his hands being shackled. Mahannon of clan Lavellon was only now realising the sound was not coming from his own body but from another. He was mildly aware of the sound of heavy booted footfalls coming closer down the hall. He managed to glance where he thought the scream had originated. All he saw were solid walls of stone, mildew formed in the crevices accounting for the musty smell. The quick pace of clearly armoured feet grew closer, he prepared himself to fight, his toes curling and feet arching into a crouch, he suddenly realised his legs were shakeled as well and bolted to the floor.  
Fenhidis!

  
His eyes a little wild now he looked for anything that would give him the advantage when the encroaching footsteps did not stop at his door, they passed him. Mahannon remained rigid and still, adrenaline coursing through him, his heart racing. They continued on down the corridor, towards the origin of the scream.  
He could ill afford to pity the poor creature that seemed to share his tormentors, whoever they be, he was in enough shit of his own. Not one to waste an opportunity, he calmed his breathing and began to take stock of his situation.

**********  
Brianna couldn’t help but groan when she awoke at God only knows what time. Her eyes were not even open yet and she seriously didn’t even want to. Every part of her ached as if she had played netball again for the first time in years while also being punched and scratched at by some drunk rando. She stretched out on a hard lumpy cot and her spine seemed to pop at the movement. Brianna reached up to her face to rub away the cloudiness that fogged her brain when she felt the heaviness at her wrists and the movement of what she would come to realise was a chain.

  
That woke her the fuck up.

  
Pushing aside the ache from her protesting muscles. She sat bolt upright and looked at her hands. Handcuffs, no, these were thick metal wrist cuffs attached to each other by a bar no longer than three inches. Said bar was attached to a chain which extended towards the wall her sorry excuse for a bed was pushed against.

  
The soft click of the door lock and crash as it was smashed against the wall startled her to attention. Two men in heavy armour, the chest plate branded with a winged sword filled the little space that still remained in what was now clearly a cell. The closest raised his hand at her while the one that stood behind rushed forward at her. Brianna was so startled by the sudden movement she didn’t notice the light that emanated from the first man's hand. Her breath caught in her throat and her limbs trembled as she was hauled upright by her shirtfront, said shirt was not the button down blouse she had been wearing but instead a woolen tunic. Brianna could barely make a lick of sense from her confronter, who was far too busy spitting while he yelled garbled noises that somehow formed words that collapsed into sentences. Her senses assaulted with the smell of this guy's lunch, that had way too much onion and the sound of “Malificar” and “demon’s whore”, she could barely let out a “Whaaa?” before she was racked with the most profound agony you could imagine. Her body seized as if it had been struck by lightning from her right palm, her teeth clacked together, maybe even cracked several. Total loss of motor function. When she could move her jaw her throat worked out a scream that would awaken a least one other prisoner. Her onion breathing assalent dropped her and she landed with a _thrumph_ on the cold floor.

Brianna curled into herself, tears falling down her face, pitiful whimpers, not that dissimilar to a child, escaped her chest. She only looked up when she heard the sound of a sword being removed from its sheath. Onion breath looked at her with fear, HIS hand shaking. _The fuck?！_ He’s scared? She thought. I’m the one chained up. Indignation almost surfaced when that sword was now pointed at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? I would love a comment. Thanks to all you took the time to read.


	2. Enter Seeker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An attempt at a quick interrogation. Brianna swears and cries.

**Chapter Two: Enter Seeker**

“HOLD!” a voice cut through the cell. The soldier froze, his hand still shaking. Brianna made eye contact with him and held her breath at seeing the whites of his eyes, so stark. The fact that he was as scared as she was frightened her more.

_What does he think I did?_

“I said HOLD templar!” came again the voice, female and heavily accented.

He finally spoke; “This ma....”

“I will handle the prisoner! All of you out!”

As the two men made their way out, swords still drawn, but lowered to their sides, another woman slipped in behind them but Brianna barely noticed as her attention was focused on her ‘saviour’.

The door closed behind them and silence fell like a blanket, not a comforting one but one that suffocated you with its oppressive heat and unwanted weight. Brianna’s heart was racing, her mind going a thousand miles a minute. _More armour? Where the fuck am I?_  
Just as she planned on voicing her question the dark haired, armoured woman turned a fixed her with a stare that belied a fury. In a soft voice she asked; “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you now, myself?”

“Wha..”

The woman’s face twisted into rage; “The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone is dead… except YOU!”

“What the FUCK are you talking about!”

That was clearly not the answer she wanted. About to lunge forward the other woman placed her hand on her armoured shoulder.

“We need answers Cassandra.”

Grunting in acquiescence she stepped forward, speeding to catch Brianna when she began to furiously shuffle backward into the cell wall as far as her shackles would allow.

“Explain this.” Grabbing her right hand. Brianna thought for a second that the woman was going to pull it out of her socket when the green energy sparked. That same jerking, seizure like pain, shot through her. Another cry wretched its way from her throat.

The woman pulled her closer; “Explain.”

“I don’t know what the FUCK that is, where this is, or who the fuck you think you are, or what or think I did.” Brianna tried to pull her arm out as she continued hysterically. “I want off of your crazy train and a mother-fucking doctor! This has got to be some radiation shit or the biggest lawsuit in the making. Let me go you BITCH!”

Brianna's composer was not holding up as she proceed to cry and scream out her frustration at this bizarre situation. The other woman, the one with a hood over her eyes like some Assassins Creed cosplay moved forward.

“Let go Cassandra.” she instructed. Turning to Brianna, she levelled her gaze, these eyes were colder than the armoured woman.

“What is the last thing you can remember?”

Heaving with exhaustion, and anxiety Brianna croaked out; “Where am I?”

“I’ll ask the first question. You are not exactly in a position to negotiate. What do you recall?”

Brianna closed her eyes, took a deep breath through her nose, held it, and released it. Her heart still smashed its way into her ribs, her shoulder ached, her hand twitched with what ever the fuck the green shit was, Don’t think about that now. _These are crazy cult people with some serious extra servings of the crazy. THINK!_

Opening her eyes she avoided looking at armour lady, She has a name, didn’t catch it, come back later. “I was at the ‘Immigration Museum’, seeing the exhibit on notable refugees from the early wars… no….” her stomach dropped. Like the nagging feeling a person gets when they walk into a room and forget why they were there but mixed with the freezing sensation of terror, she stopped. “I remember… green, a man with knives. We were running. There was something... and a woman standing in front of us.”

“A woman?” This is when both the women finally turned to each other as a knock came to the door.

The hooded woman stepped back, opened the door, stepped out and in hushed whispers exchanged an understanding with the unseen person. When she came back in she nodded to the armoured woman. “We need to go.” Lady Armour, as Brianna now internally referred to her, picked her up by her shirt collar.

“Hey!” Brianna yelled. “I don’t have to go anywhere. You still haven’t told me where we are…” but the Hood, as she was now referred, wasn’t looking at her now.

“Go to the forward camp, have your agent bring the other one.” Lady Armour instructed.

“Charter needs to stay with me, one of Cullen’s men will have to go with you.”  
Lady Armour grunted as she unlocked Brianna’s restraints save for the cuffs, who proceeded to gasp as the heavy weight fell off with a clatter. Before she could react Lady Armour was dragging her out of the cell, of which the Hood had already vacated.

“Where are you…” Before she could finish the door behind her slammed shut, she looked out and saw a corridor of dark, dank rooms, similar to hers and a woman with silver armour hauling another person from another room. This stopped her cold as she suddenly recognised the man. This was the man she was running with, the details were chaotic but she remembered his face clearly but what completely drew her attention was his ears, long and pointed.

Like an elf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again.  
You should all note this will have a sporadic upload schedule. Brianna's story is rolling around in my head but Mahanon's is only just forming.  
The Immigration Museum is a real place. It is in Melbourne Australia. It is a collection of histories of people who have immigrated to Australia, even those that were forced. If you are interested in modern world history the website is a great start for many international stories from Europe to Asia. 
> 
> Next chapter will feature Mahanon.


	3. Stand alone Chapter: Did I do the right thing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will at some point be folded into the story but is being left as is for now.

**Did I do the right thing?**

_ NB: After returning from Val Royeaux the Lady Herald and Cassandra have a heart to heart. _

It was time to make peace. She had been putting it off for too long. Brianna made the trek from her cabin to the training grounds to say to that woman all the things that had been stewing since that that first day in the dungeons. Cassandra was to be by her side for a great deal of this new life she was to lead and she couldn’t have this anger that had loomed over them for the more than two months she had already been here. Brianna was tired and it was dragging on her soul, seeping into her bones and more importantly, drawing in demons from the fade.

Upon her arrival Cassandra was beating that dummy within an inch of its life. Brianna pondered as to whether or not the stand would even endure much more punishment before it was rent asunder. It reminded her of her own shattering of the tree logs from her earlier rages. Cassandra’s disgusted noise almost brought a smile to Brianna’s lips as she approached her on the training field.

“You and I are going to need stronger dummies the way we go at them. Maybe stone would do the trick?” She drawled.

“Perhaps iron?” Cassandra responded halfheartedly. This surprised Brianna.

“I’m sorry? Was that a _ joke _.” She queried.

“_ Urgh _.” A short laugh managed to escape Brianna at the sudden change in Cassandra’s face. This short mirth was followed by an uncomfortable silence that fell upon them both. The sound of the recruits clanking together with wood and steel was a common white noise that filled the space. Both women stood away from them, Cullen must have assumed Cassandra needed wide berth during her regular woman-on-dummy slaughter session. 

Cassandra finally looked up at that point and broke the silence. “Did I do the right thing?” she asked, sincerely looking at Brianna, “What I have set in motion here could destroy everything I revered my whole life.” Her accent became stronger, lilting has she became emotional. It seemed Brianna wasn’t the only one holding onto negative thoughts. “One day, they might write about me as a traitor, a madwoman, a fool. And they may be right.” 

Brianna thinks carefully before she answers, worrying the older woman, “It is too late to be concerned about that now. The decision has been made.” She answered.

Cassandra kicked out at the ground and rounded on the younger woman. It seems that Brianna’s answer did not absolve her of her perceived faults or even confirm them. “My trainers always said, ‘_ Cassandra you are too brash. You must think before you act _.’ I see what must be done and I do it! I see no point in running around in circles like a dog chasing its tail. But I misjudged you in the beginning, did I not?” She rounded back to Brianna. “I thought the answer was before me, clear as day. I cannot afford to be so careless again... as I was with you.”

“Glad to hear that Cassandra.” Brianna quipped lightly, then turning serious, “It is a good quality, to have the courage to act decisively, no, look at me.” Cassandra had looked away at this but was drawn back to the younger woman’s serious expression. 

“But, it must be tempered with patience. Probs why the Divine had a left and a right hand no? More than one to shoulder the burden."

Cassandra looked out at the frozen lake as considered her next statement. “I should be honest, I wanted to kill you.” Cassandra confessed softly, her shoulders sinking with the weight of her admission. 

“I know.”

Casandra was pained, “I wanted to say I’m…” 

“Don’t.”

“But…”

“When I woke up in that cell I was scared of everything in front of me.” Brianna cut her off, taking hold of the conversation. This was her time now. She was going to make this woman see, what she did to her. She began to recount. 

“I awaken in a cage with no memory. I was dragged up a mountain, forced into battle, told that I am going to die and threatened at every step. My hand was on fire and I find out that I can even freaking make it, with my mind. There were precious few who even gave a shit about me in those early moments. Mahannon being one of them. Then all of a sudden, I was out of it again. I wake up and low and behold the same men and women who would have gladly had my head on a spike are begging me for help, calling me a saviour.” During her recount she had turned away but now she held Cassandra’s gaze. Daring the woman, now wide eyed, to look away.

“I despised all of you. What was even worse was that I knew that I needed you all to survive. At night, I would dream of setting fire to the village and stand back to watch it burn.” Cassandra’s eyes widened at that, instinctively he hand drifted towards her sword hilt. 

“I even hated Josie,” Brianna continued, “I hated how she kept smiling. I hated all of you. Especially you.” Brianna now turned to the older woman. Cassandra looked stunned at this. She had not realised how deeply the younger woman had felt about them all. 

“I see.” She said softly.

“I’m sorry for that.”

This stunned Cassandra even more. 

“What?”

“I’m sorry. What you did to me and Mahannon was wrong, but understandable. I have had to remind myself that fear is frightening because it causes us to do things we would never think we would do. Brings out the worst in us. There are few who are immune to such an emotion, including me.”

Brianna paused while she thought of what next to say. She hadn't planned this far.

“I’ve had my head up my ass about how I’m feeling. The Hinterlands made me see that, it reminded me that I am not the only one who has lost.”

Cassandra truly had no response other than, “I don’t want to say to that.”

“Nothing.” Brianna confirmed, “You say nothing. There is no need. I just hope you and I can work together. I need to trust you and I can’t do that if I hate you. I don’t want to hate you anymore.” 

Brianna reached out her hand.

“I can do that.” Cassandra smiled now, her hand that had been on her pommel now reaching out to grasp the younger womans’ hand, this terrifying and now she truly realises, _terrified_ woman’ hand.

And thus an accord was struck between two women. Not necessarily a friendship, but a respect. There was work to do.


	4. Stand alone Chapter: A company for hire, or two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lord Herald speaks with Josephine, meets a young mercenary.

Josephine was horrified by Mahannon’s dress. He was standing in her office ready to discuss the day’s needs and he was positively the most Dalish he could be. Josephine had grown use to Brianna sitting with her to go over the issues of finances, politics and administration needs. It had become a part lesson, part brainstorm where the former educator would ask questions of alliances and families, making notes in her little book and then offering suggestions. Josephine would them explain why it would or would not work, Brianna would sometimes challenge or ask for more clarification. More often than not Josephine would win any more heated or even less heated discussions but then found herself pondering her actions, just a little more. 

Josephine knew very little about the elf that stood before her. 

What little she did know was superficial. She knew that he was Dalish, belonged to clan Lavellan and was predominantly of the Free Marches, as much as the Dalish belonged anywhere. After that the precious few things that she knew, she had only barely managed to glen from brief conversations at the war table and from Liliana’s own network.

She knew that he was a hunter, clearly a rogue in style due to his constant quiet entry into rooms, hardly being noticed until she turned or someone else exclaimed his presence. He did not like to talk. While Brianna could go on and on about a topic once she realised there was a similarity between her world and this one, Mahannon often spoke in short sentences and mostly stood back and listened. An excellent trait for his initial purpose for being at the conclave was to spy and report back to his people.

There was one other thing. He was proudly elvhen.

Unlike the elvish servants that often skittered around humans, even the highly educated elvish mages often avoided eye contact with humans, Mahannon of clan Lavellan would hold your gaze deliberately until you lower yours. He was like a wolf staring down an elk that had noticed him, daring his now prey to turn its back and run.

Josephine just knew that he had dressed in the most torn, worn, and positively woodland attire he had managed to salvage from her purge of his wardrobe just to put her on the defensive. Yes, Mahannon Lavellan was cold, cool, and calculating.

“_Ir abelas _my lady. My human half had business to attend. I have come to take her place and go over some of the matters requiring the input of we  _ Heralds _ .” There was a noticeable sneer on the word Herald. He bowed slightly not taking his eyes from hers, his apology clearly a jest. “I take it your meeting with the Trevelyan’s vassal went well.”

Josephine almost winced. 

The Trevelyan’s vassal had seen him like this. Word had spread quickly of the Dalish Herald of Andraste. He was the first to awaken and when he casually walks around Haven his dark black vallaslin makes him very noticeable. Brianna surprisingly was not noticed often. First it was by sheer accident due to the excitement of every Andrastian being shocked that an elf was Andraste’s chosen one. Later it was more deliberate. No one needed to know that one of the Lady Herald of Andraste only came into her magic at the age of 29 and, Maker’s breath, was from another world. Mahannon had taken advantage of this immediately. He proceeded to rub the fact that he was not human into the face of every Lord, Lady or contact to whom he was introduced. The worst or best part was he was never hostile to those Josephine, or anyone, introduced him to. He flaunted his Dalish heritage by greeting those he meet in exclusively elvish, by his dress, and by his confidence in his culture and his people. 

You could feel it with every gaze he held. _I. Am. Elvhen_.

“No matter my lord, please sit. What I must discuss also would have needed your input so this is quite fortunate. I have tea if you would like. I was expecting Lady Brianna so the selection may not be to your liking.” She did not look away. 

Mahannon did not speak this time he simply held her gaze and stalked towards the chair opposite her. It was a battle of wills. Tension with smiles filled the room. 

“I’ll have a cup.” he said simply.

Josephine smiled more. Her space around her eyes crinkling as she did. Still without breaking his gaze, she poured the tea into the delicate and partially translucent bone-ceramic cup. Not a drop was spilt.

For once the smile he had been giving others actually reached his eyes. He nodded his head in thanks, took the cup and broke the battle of the gazes to sip at the warm, slightly bitter liquid. He had conceded to his equal. He had no quarrel with the Lady Montilyet and she had fought gallantly this day. 

“What is it we need to discuss?” he asked, raising his head.

Josephine could have danced but she was too proper for such behaviour. She simply carried on as if a major concession wasn’t just granted to her. 

“Both of your reports of the Hinterlands confirm our suspicions that we won’t be able to hold the area. Connections in Val Royeaux are also slow coming. Cullen has stated that we have numbers but not the training for such an endeavour. Brianna and I previously discussed that the numbers of the faithful in Haven are beginning to become uncomfortable. Securing the Hinterlands, gaining access to Redcliffe, Horse Master Dennet and giving people elsewhere to dwell is paramount. My discussion this morning was to encourage the Treveylan’s. They have pledged funds to the cause.” She looked at him.

He was quiet now. Simply observing, taking in information, waiting for her to continue. 

“The most convenient solution we have all come to agree on is that we could hire mercenaries.” She stated. “It would give us the man-power we need and the skills we lack. The commander was reluctant to agree but he eventually concurred that it would fill the void in the ranks.”

“Are you asking or telling me what you are doing Josephine?” No more ‘my lady’s today.

She paused, more careful with her words. “You travelled with a mercenary crew called the Valo-Kas on your way to the conclave. Yes?” Her intonation questioning but her posture stating.

“Yes.” He confirmed.

“And you found them personally agreeable?”

“Yes.”

“Did you find anything disagreeable in their methods?”

“No.”

This was getting frustrating now.

“Can you describe them?”

“Yes.”

“.... and?”

“Their leader is very tall.” He did not even smirk.

And she thought the battle was over. She was mostly, actually definitely, sure he did this on purpose.

**********

Mahannon had given Josephine the name Taarlok as a contact for the Val-Kas. He was surprised she had suggested the mercenary company but felt deflated when he realised that few companies were accessible due to the Inquisitions current standing in Orlais and many human groups having found work in the civil war. He had enjoyed the companies presence on his journey to the ill-fated conclave. As he pondered the possible losses they may have experienced due to the explosion he noticed a young man, clearly not Fereldan or Orlisian, dressed in worn, but well cared for armour. He was trying to get a lay sister to listen to him. Mahannon had gone many years without seeing a Vint but the sight had him on edge. He forced himself to relax and made his way over to the young man.

“ _ Andaran atish'an _ . Do you  need help?” He was annoyed at the slight tone of aggression that had slipped in his voice.  _ Calm yourself. You are better than this _ . 

The young man looked startled at being addressed, he had been waved off by everyone he had meet so far. He paused looked at Mahannon’s face, his eyes then flicked to his clothes, then back to his face. Looking apologetic he stood taller and addressed him properly.

“My apologies, I have a message for the Inquisition but am having a hard time getting anyone to talk to me.”

“What message would we need from Tevinter?” He asked coolly.

If the young man was offended he did not show it. “Cremisius Aclassi with the Bull’s Chargers mercenary company. We mostly work out of Orlais and Nevarra. We got word of some Tevinter mercenaries gathering out on the Storm Coast. My company commander Iron Bull offers the information free of charge.” 

“How generous of him.”

Cremisius was taken aback at being interrupted but regained his composure. 

“As I was saying, if you would like to see what the Bull’s Chargers can do for the Inquisition, meet us there and watch us work.” 

Mahannon paused. A vint giving up other vints and the name Iron Bull…

“Your commander.” He stated.

“Ahhh...yes?” the young man was confused now.

“What is he like?”

“Oh, umm well he’s on of those Qunari, with the horns, you know?” His confusion gone and pride seeping into his voice. “ Anyway, he leads from the front, he pays well and is a lot smarter than the last bastard that I worked for. Best of all he’s professional. He accepts contracts with whoever makes the first real offer. The Inquisition is the first time he has gone out of his way to make contact with a client.”

Mahannon remained silent this time. A slight look of annoyance crossed the vint’s face. 

“Mahannon!” A womans’ voice called out. Both men turned to see a woman with brown hair pulled back from her face. Brianna. She was carrying a pile of books in her hands and seemed, in his opinion, walking as if a weight had been lifted from her very soul. 

_ Good girl _ . He thought.

“Sorry to interrupt.” She inclined her head towards the vint, no mercenary, I need to return these to Josie, is she free?”

“I just left her office,  _ ma falon _ .” He let the smile come to his eyes. “After this young man tells me the skills his company has to offer the Inquisition I’ll be seeing her again to arrange transport to the Storm Coast.”

Brianna laughed, “I best get in now then, give her a break from you.” As with that she turned on her heal, swished her skirt and walked into the Chantry.

“So?” Mahannon asked rounding on the mercenary. Yes, that is slightly better descriptor than ‘ _ the vint’ _ .

**********

Krem was now more than a little stunned. This elf, who appeared to dress more wild than Skinner and Dailish combined, possessed the cool control that he had always envied from his boss. The random woman who had interrupted them spoke as if he was the one in charge.  If that was the case…. He blanched while his eyes darted to the right, then left hand. A soft green glow was emitting from the elf’s left palm.

Looking back up, the elf held a knowing smile, stilling waiting.

Stealing himself he stood up straighter. His team were some of the best. He wasn’t going to let this man, possibly divine or not, leave without the best impression of his family. 

“Well we’re loyal, we’re tough and we don’t break contracts. Ask around Val Royeaux. We’ve got references…”

**********

Krem left Haven the next day with questions and the strangest information for his boss. Angry that he had almost shouted at the Herald of Andraste, embarrassed that the Herald knew he was going to shout at him and confused that the most controversial man in all of Thedas slapped him on the shoulder and told him that he would see the company in a few weeks time and would treat him to a drink with his lunch. The walk to the tavern was painfully awkward, for him anyway. He’s pretty sure the Herald enjoyed himself immensely. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mahannon and the Dalish remind me of Indigenous peoples. The re-claiming of language and heritage that was for generations denied to many is so important. I also see the backlash from old school colonial ideals towards individuals you strongly express their Indigenous identity and I want that to reflect in Mahannon. A person who stands and will not bow to those who think him inferior. Polite hostility as opposed to open hatred of humans.


	5. Stand alone Chapter: Admirer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Josie is happy, Brianna is slightly clueless.

Brianna stood at the war table and stared intensely at the map. Her year 8 students had revealed a technique of surviving apparently boring classes at school. It involved making eye contact and occasionally nodding.  _ I wonder how long that would last with Lilianna _ ? Orlesian dresses and transport to Val Royeaux were not interesting, no matter how much Josephine delighted in it. A soft humming from Josie brought her attention back from the little figurines dotted on the map. 

Josephine was smiling, not her normal professional greeting but something soft and warm,  _ was that a flower behind her ear _ ? Lelianna gave her a knowing smile; “You have an admirer.”

“Shhhh,” she giggled “Not now.” She laughed behind her hand. Cullen was wondering in with Mahannon, arms filled with a stack of maps he was discussing something about arms or armour but Brianna was really listening. She was looking at Lillianna and Josephine smiling at each other. She suddenly had a vague memory of a certain blushing Warden carrying the similar little white flowers from the stables….

“Josie!?” she exclaimed excitedly at her sudden realisation. “You and ….” suddenly she noted the look of horror on Josies’ face. 

“You and, and, and, and the…… tailor! YES! The tailor must have contacted you about the…. Outfits. ‘Cause that’s what tailor’s do and, and, and we have dresses and things to wear at the winter palace and…. I really need a cup of tea.” She rambled at a 1000 miles an hour end in a soft admission of defeat.

She looked at everyone around her, Josie, Lilliana, Cullen, and Mahannon all staring at her like she had lost her mind. 

“Are you well  _ ma falon _ ?” Mahannon asked her,stupid smug look on his face that made the colour rise in hers.

“...noooooo.” she said softly, “I think I need a sleep.” she was embarrassed how much of a whine came out with her voice.  _ Jesus Christ woman, you’re thirty. _

“Well,” Cullen said calling attention to himself. Standing up even striaghter for some stupid reason. “We should get on with this meeting then, our dear Lady Inquisitor needs her rest.” He was smiling at her, the bastard was smiling. 

Turning to her lady ambassador a soft, thankful smile was on her face as well. Thankful might be the wrong word. Was it pitying? Brianna’s shoulders fell. “Yes. Let’s get on with it.” 


End file.
